Sorry for such a long wait. I had my semestral exams. And my laptop was under lock and key. No more delays after this I hope. The next chapter after this is in writing though I could manage only 300words. I have an ending in sight, so no worries there.

There are going to be some scenes here which could hurt sensibilities of some sensitive people. In case sensitive people have read this story from the start, they would know this story isn't for them. So this warning is going to be the only one.

Thanks to Puja (Miss you, honey!), Shubham( the handsome evil doctor in making), WinchesterGranger(the sweetest person on earth) and Nautical Paramour and Meowmerson.

And thanks to all of those who have reviewed, favourited and followed this story. Your gestures mean a lot to me. Thanks!

On with the story!

All my friends are heathens, take it slow

Wait for them to ask you who you know

Please don't make any sudden moves

You don't know the half of the abuse

Twenty One Pilots-Heathens

Chapter 4

The guard had shouted lights out five minutes ago and now he had come to drag his baton over the bars doing a final before lights out the patrol. The prison was too quiet these days. Some liked the quiet but this quiet meant just one thing- the chaos was running low. And Joker couldn't let that happen now, can he?

He was under a strict surveillance inside their special glass cell and was wearing the most unflattering type of straitjacket. White with buckles. Metal buckles. Maybe he could be a little creative with the buckles of this type. A forceful slam of buckle to the temple of the head can create a dent in.

He laughed at his own joke. Dent in the head. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Maybe a good smash. It's messy. It'll destroy his clean jacket. But maybe he needed some colour in his life. The blood red was his most favourite colour and a dash of pink-pink might be just the thing he needed.

The bar banging was nearing his suite. Bar banging needs some head denting. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

But the voices are no longer laughing at his jokes. They want to see some action. And honestly, he needed some action too. It's been too quiet.

Too quiet for Arkham.

Harry read the file that Kingsley had fished out for him. It was a muggle asylum for criminally insane! That was probably not the best idea that had graced the head of their honourable Minister of Magic.

"Are you sure an asylum will cure her off of insanity?" Harry asked his voice full of doubt.

"They have cured criminally insane people. They have very modern and state of art techniques to cure the patient. They have cured violent people and made them harmless as babies," Kingsley assured Harry.

"I am not so sure about what they claim. Name some cured people," Harry inquired.

"The psychiatrist there is a former patient," Kingsley answered.

"That doesn't assure me at all. In fact, I think you have got it wrong. It says the former psychiatrist is now presently a patient," Harry countered.

"Harry, we have to admit her somewhere," Kingsley said frustrated.

"And admitting her there is the answer?" Harry snapped.

"Peek into that pensive memory of her last session here. You will soon agree with me," Kingsley said as he brought out the pensive from the self behind him.

The memory phial was emptied into the pensive and then Harry dipped his head into it. He saw Hermione seated in the seat in front of the desk but the smile that graced her face seemed so out of place. It was something the crazed Death Eaters wore when they taunted their victims. Kingsley was questioning her and there was a Healer who was presiding over the meeting. Kingsley then began his interrogation.

"I understand those muggles were your childhood bullies and that you harmed Mrs Dorson because she was potentially harming you. But did you 'hurt' Ms Lavender Brown?"

"Have you ever trimmed your garden shrubs, Kingsley?" Hermione asked instead of answered the question.

"Yes, I have," Kingsley answered tersely as if judging how his answer will affect the situation.

"I did the same thing. Trimmed the bad leaves to nurture the shrub to be a…good shrub," Hermione replied calmly as if they were really discussing gardening.

"You killed her, Hermione. Killed her. Do you even understand the implication of taking the life of a person?" Kingsley snarled as he barely kept him from shouting out loud.

"Plants have life in them too. But we cut them, trim them, rip them from their soil, force them into a new pot, water them, not water them, love them, and not love them. But nobody speaks for them. Nobody. Their pain goes unheard, unspoken. Just because a human has someone to speak them," Hermione hissed as her tone grew much harsher and colder, "it doesn't give anyone the right to question my cleansing. I am doing everyone a favour. I am creating a society which is tolerant towards the rights of a muggle born. We are not simply muggle borns. We are the New Blood. We are magic in its truest form. The best of both worlds." She huffed at the end as if explaining all the reasons irritated her.

"Hermione, you took her life," Kingsley replied exasperatedly.

"Not my problem," Hermione shot back as folded her arms under her chest and jutted her chin out as if to ask "so there" while the Healer beside Kingsley inhaled sharply out of horror.

"How is it not your problem?! You killed her. Don't you understand!" Kingsley shouted at her.

Hermione still shrugged. Harry's head was reeling. He could no longer contain his horror on seeing, first-hand, what his best friend had turned into.

The healer whispered something in Kingsley's ear and Kingsley sharply turned his head towards him, silently asking him a question. The healer nodded gravely and then Kingsley too nodded his permission.

"Ms Granger, I would like to perform some tests on you," the Healer said.

"What good would that do me?" Hermione asked in her familiar curious voice.

"It would help me to understand your mindset at the present moment," the Healer replied formally.

"Oh…okay! Go ahead. But try something funny and I'll kill you. Very painfully. I'll know if you try to do that," Hermione said coolly.

"Not at all, Miss. Not all," the Healer replied nervously.

"You do?" Hermione asked innocently as the Healer affirmed his answer with a nod.

"Good boy. Kings, please keep him. I like him," Hermione said in a childlike voice.

Harry shot out of the memory and clutched his head as if he had a massive headache. He removed his spectacles from his nose and rubbed his eyes like he could rub away what he saw in the memory.

"She needs help," Kingsley said softly. "Healer Marcone sent his reports this morning. The tests all point towards the fact that she has a—what do you say…an imbalance in her head. Her tests reports from the indicative spells say that she is logically sane. But Healer Marcone says she has stopped feeling empathy."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked despite knowing what exactly it meant. He just it to be confirmed. By someone else.

"She no longer feels regret or guilt for her actions. She thinks what she does is right and she doesn't feel the pain she causes to her…for the lack of better words-victims," Kingsley said sadly, "I contacted a muggle Healer too under the supervision of the muggle Minister. That Healer said that she has turned into a serial killer who kills to prove a point to her…victims. She told me to thank the lords that she is co-operating like she is doing and that she doesn't work with the operative of teaching everyone who has wronged her according to 'her books'. Apparently then, we would have to put her down. Her words, not mine. She suggested institutionalisation also. Harry, I am sorry. I tried."

"You tried at least whereas we, being her friends, did nothing. What went wrong? What happened to make her this way? She wasn't—she wasn't like this. She was the kindest person on this earth, with a heart so big that she could die for anyone!" Harry cried out.

"Cruciatus is what happened," Kingsley replied sombrely.

"What does that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded.

"Crucio turns a person mad. Mad with pain," a medium built man in his thirties answered as he dusted the soot off his Healer cloak when he stepped out of the fireplace. "Healer Shurane, a specialist in treating minor effects of Cruciatus," he said as he extended his hand to shake with Harry.

"I called Healer Shurane requesting an immediate meeting with you today before I official issued an order to deport Hermione to the institute we were speaking of," Kingsley explained as Harry sat in the seats opposite the Minister's desk and the Healer took the seat beside him.

"I will come straight to the point as I have a lot of work to do. I was handed over the standard reports of Hermione and told to analyse it, pronto. This case has caught my attention since then but sadly there is nothing I can do any more than explaining it to you why this happened," Healer Shurane said.

"There is seriously nothing that can be done?" Harry asked dejectedly.

"Had she been admitted to the Mind Healers few days after the curse was cast on her, maybe then we could have healed the effects of the curse. But at this point in time, only a miracle can cure her. Her mind is completely changed now. This curse—it directly affects the mind, creating actual pain there so that the mind creates an illusion of pain throughout the body. The Longbottoms lost their mind. Mind you- lost their mind. Not go crazy. Their minds broke from pain. But Hermione…Hermione is different. She somehow had held onto her mind during the duration of the torture, as I have been told by Minister here," Harry nodded at that. "So it means half of her mind is intact but the other half has undergone a change in psyche. She might function as a normal person now but there will be a time when the normal part of her will no longer function. Just like you see now. She was a successful businesswoman but then she started acting upon her whims. Slowly at first, one or two victims at times. Now you find eleven cases in your hand, Mr Potter," Healer Shurane explained.

"You mean she will only keep getting worse?" Harry asked in disbelieve.

"I am afraid that is the only conclusion to her case," Shurane said solemnly.

Harry rubbed his face with his face, frustrated, then he suddenly cried out as he slammed his hands on the desk near him startling his companions in the room.

"Mr Potter, please hold yourself together. You losing control of yourself will not help anyone," Shurane exclaimed.

Harry sat down on a seat behind him heavily as Kingsley placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Then Kingsley turned towards Shurane to talk about something but all that went unheard by Harry as he let himself be swallowed by the pain of losing his best friend.

Ron let the extendable ear fall to the floor when he heard the revelation about Hermione. His mind was blank and body comfortably numb.

'His Lavender killed by her. The love of his life, mother to his children who would never be born because of that—that—'

Rapid, angry footstep made its way out of the Ministry. Ron wasn't going to rest until the guilty was punished. This wasn't the Wizarding Britain that will allow guilty way free just because the guilty happened to be someone of power. She wasn't going to let off with just a tap on the wrist. He would provide the justice.

Or die trying.

Hermione was on a shopping spree with Astoria in muggle London and Draco was their luggage mule. He seemed covered with shopping bags.

"Can we not at least cast a lightening spell on these bags?" Draco complained.

"Nope. This exercise shall build character," Astoria replied with a smirk.

"I want to check out this new ice-cream parlour. I have heard great about their classic vanilla chocolate sundae," Hermione told Astoria as she dragged the blonde into the parlour. Draco huffed and entered the parlour behind them complaining about feeling-less women and their insidious torture methods.

Once they were seated into the parlour and their orders taken, Astoria began her Spanish inquisition on Hermione.

"How sure are you that they are sending you to an American institute for behavioural rectification?"

Draco pointed his ice cream spoon at Hermione, glared and said, "This is all your fault."

Hermione just cocked her brow.

"Ever since you two started your girl bonding thing-y, Astoria has begun speaking in five lettered words. Or worse, more the merrier. I mean behavioural rectification. How bloody long is that word even?" Draco finished with a fake shiver.

Astoria simply huffed at him while Hermione paid him no heed.

"The Ministry over-estimates itself. And it is no challenge for me to place some spy bugs in the Minister's office. I am the brightest witch of my age, after all," Hermione explained, as-a-matter-of-factly.

"When will you be back?" Astoria asked as she fished a spoonful of Draco's ice cream.

"Before my godchild is born," Hermione answered.

"And how do you plan to do that? You are going to be institutionalised. Does that word even ring any bells?" Draco asked heatedly.

"And have you never heard of the word breakout?" Hermione countered back as she pushed her empty ice cream bowl away.

"You are going to risk being labelled as an escapee?" Astoria gasped.

"Arkham is different. Besides, I plan on shifting to the other side of the pond. Britain has become too dreary to me. America is an adventure I am willing to undertake," Hermione said.

When the official notice came whooping in the window, nobody was surprised to know that Hermione was being summoned to the Minister's office be taken away to some better hospital to treat her illness.

As if.

The last visit to the Minister had ended with Hermione getting thinly veiled threats of being hunted down like the animal she was if she tried to escape the generous gestures of the Ministry. Oversea apparation was a risk best taken in times of trouble and Floo was out of the question as it was easily regulated. Hermione couldn't even escape via Muggles means if she wanted because the Muggle authorities were also alerted about the escape possibilities of a proven criminally insane person. Hermione was cornered and had to do their biddings.

Or so they thought.

Hermione shrunk her luggage to a minuscule size and embedded it into the back of her middle finger making it look like a weird tattooed ring, much to the horror of the Malfoy mother to be.

"Why does that tattoo spell LV?" Draco asked as he rubbed the arms of his baby's mamma to soothe her.

"Because it is Louis Vuitton, duh," Hermione said slowly.

"It looked to me like it said Lord Voldemort," Draco replied after some time of consideration.

"Rather it seemed to me like Lady Voldemort," Astoria quipped in.

Hermione stared at them dumbfounded.

"First, He-Who-Is-Dead would have never married a New Blood despite her being more talented than him," at which Draco coughed and murmured 'know-it-all', "and the second being You-Know-Who lacked a distinct You-Know-What."

Astoria started counting off her fingers, "He was noseless, hairless—"

"Earless," Draco interrupted.

"And 'the thing' less. I am very confident. It is why he always seemed to have a stick up his arse," Hermione added.

"Hermione, I lived with him. I know what he lacks, I have seen him. With his clothes on, mind you," Draco hurriedly added when Hermione let out a snort. "Take it from an expert. He distinctly lacked an arse too," Draco commented.

"Ah, no wonder he seemed so tensed all the time. He couldn't relief himself. For he had the main thing missing," Hermione laughed out.

"Poor Aunt Bellatrix. She spent her life looking for something she would have never found," Draco said as he joined in the laughter.

"Can we just not talk about Voldemort's thing of all things in the world," Astoria said in the middle of delicate giggles.

"So who's thing do you want you to talk about?" Hermione teased Astoria as Draco let out a loud laugh.

Astoria blushed and hid her face in her husband's chest. Hermione had a smile plastered on her face as she took in the scene.

"On the serious note, what about the wand?" Draco asked as soon as he caught his breath.

"That is going to get snapped," Hermione said, deadpan.

"You are joking right," Draco said shocked at her reply.

"Not at all. Do you really expect that they would safe keep my wand? Are you really that naive?" Hermione questioned back.

"Not naive. But snapping of the wand? Even the Azkaban prisoners have their wands safely kept for them," Astoria answered.

"Yes. But I am not an Azkaban prisoner or ex-prisoner. I am a feral animal who needs to be either put down or sent so far that no one remembers her anymore," Hermione said.

"So the wand? Where will be kept?"

"I no longer need it," Hermione said as she softly caressed the wand, looking closely at its markings.

"What do you mean you no longer need it? Don't tell me you are a complete wandless caster!" Astoria stated in surprise.

"Something broke inside of me. So I no longer need my wand to focus my magic. I simply will it and voila! The work is done!"

"That is pretty marvellous," Draco replied in awe, a tone that most don't get to hear from Draco Abraxas Malfoy.

"And makes my work easier. One headache less to care about. The luggage was important, so it comes with me," Hermione replied.

There was a pause while Hermione placed her wand in a wand box that she brought from the store.

"Now what?" Astoria asked unable to control her curiosity.

"Now I am going to give them my fake wand and then we wait," Hermione said ominously.

When Astoria's face fell at that, Hermione added, "While we wait we can plan for that lavish baby shower, can we not?"

Astoria replied yes and brought out various magazines featuring baby items and Draco took pleasure in watching them celebrate the coming of his child.

'That apartment is somewhere around this corner. I certainly remember that it used to be here. So why isn't her name tag here?' Ron thought as he roamed the corridors of the residential building where he knew Hermione used to stay before their break up. But now that she has become a killer, maybe she looted those homes whose owners she killed and now moved to some better place. Or maybe, she has started to live like the killer she is in some dingy dungeon dancing around the bonfire celebrating the deaths. Or she could be living with those fucking Death Eaters!

Ron stumbled and landed on the carpeted halls. He crawled on fours and then sat down with a thump with his back to the floor clutching his hair in his hands.

'How could Hermione do this to him? To Lavender? He had finally gathered his courage to settle down. And Lavender had broken the news that she was pregnant and he was finally coming to terms that he was going to be a father. He was ready to be a husband and a father. He was ready! He was ready, Merlin damn it! He would make Hermione pay. He would. His child!'

Another whispered joined his inner monologue, 'Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at the poor Weasley. Born wealth less, now living childless. The woman finally did what she always wanted to. Make him suffer. Of course she wanted to make him suffer. After all, Ronald Bilius Weasley was the first reason of her tears in the Wizarding world. He did have to pay back for all those hurt. Instead, his unborn child did. Won't Ron take a step? Won't he for once in his life be a man? Will he not take revenge?'

He would. Of course, he would. He is a war hero, for Merlin's sake. He roughly rubbed his face with his palm and stood up suddenly determined more than ever and apparated away with a Pop!

Hermione arrived at the Minister of Magic's office at the appointed time along with her lawyer and lawyer's wife. Minister Kingsley was there along with a barrage of Aurors and Head Auror Potter. Astoria looked at Hermione with teary eyes while Draco stood with a stoic expression on his face. There was an awkward silence which Kingsley deemed worthy enough to break.

"Miss Granger, after the consultations with the Healers at St. Mungo's and with the Head Auror we came to the decision that you need psychiatric help."

"Wow, thank you. I am honoured. Someone give this man a cookie. He finally found the war heroes need psychiatric help. Well, teenaged war heroes don't need psychiatric help," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Hermione—" began Harry.

"Boy-Who-Lived, it was nice knowing you. Emphasis on the past tense," Hermione cut in.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again but a glare from Hermione stopped him.

"Draco, you have been there when no one was. Thank you. Don't visit me, whatever you do," Hermione said as she aired kissed his cheeks.

"Tori, I have no words for what you did for me. It is beyond compare. I love you," and Hermione kissed her full on the mouth as Astoria's eyes seem to bulge out.

Everyone looked shocked but Draco's face switched between amused and leery.

"I knew you wore orange lip gloss. Nice after smell," Hermione said with a wink, "Okay, Aurors. Take it away."

Without much further ado, some Aurors patted Hermione down while some cast spell on her to retrieve any hidden weapon, magical or otherwise. And they were sorely disappointed when they found nothing on her person. Hermione twirled like a princess at a ball and giggled like someone complimented her.

Harry's head was spinning since he never thought he would have to see this aspect of Hermione. The friend with heart of gold, the sharpest mind in all of Britain turned into this. It is like not diagnosing a friend who had the highest chance of getting afflicted with a plague that touched everyone and had the ability to harm your friend the most. And you let it harm it anyway. Because you were busy. So busy that now what you are seeing in front of you is a twisted version of the person you used to know. When did life get so messed up?

While Harry was busy disbelieving his eyes, Ron had blasted open the office doors with a strong Bombarda. Everyone took cover however Hermione silently cast a shield around the mother to be.

"You will pay for what you did!" Ron shouted at Hermione, his wand pointed at her.

"But you know it wasn't me who did it, Ronald. She did that to herself," Hermione pleaded.

"You are lying! I heard everything," Ron snapped.

"You heard them convicting me. But even now if you ask them to provide proofs against me, they won't be able to. Because there is no proof," Hermione said and added in her mind, 'as I have taken care of that.'

"I heard them! They said you killed her," Ron shouted but this time with less conviction.

"Ron, you and I, we both know how the ministry works. They are trying to hide the truth, Ron," Hermione said earnestly.

"Then what is the truth?" Ron said as he half lowered his wand arm.

"Lavender," Hermione paused as if she was collecting her thoughts while the others present in the room watched the drama unfold afraid to interrupt in case their volatile temper caused substantial harm, "she wanted an out."

"What do you mean?" Ron snapped.

"She was a nobody, Ron. A nobody. Like you used to be. She wanted her share of fame," Hermione explained softly as Ron stared at her confusedly.

"She wanted to be killed?" Ron shouted as Hermione's words sunk in.

"She wanted a part of your fame. What you earned from your exploits. She was a poor victim of Greyback. But Astoria's treatment helped her out. She wanted to be your trophy wife. She wanted to be the one who gave you wanted the most- a family," Hermione continued.

"When why did you take her away from me?" Ron cried out, tears streaming down his face as he slumped down on the floor with his head cradled in his hands, the wand lying beside him, abandoned in sorrow.

"I didn't take her away. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Like I always am. I went to her to give her a book when I learnt at the St. Mungo's that she was expecting your child. And I found her lying there dead on the floor. Mud flowing out of her eyes like tears. Swollen body. Fluffed up with a dead life inside her. Dead like what she felt inside," Hermione said as she crouched next to Ron, talking to him softly.

None of the Aurors tried to move, busy taking in the drama that was unfolding in front of them. Harry was too much in a shock to comprehend anything that was happening while Draco and Astoria looked like a couple out of the Hallmark greeting cards smiling down at the scene in front of them.

"But- but I heard that you were cleaning up the world?" Ron whimpered.

"Is that what you heard? I am so sorry you had to hear that. I didn't mean any of it. I didn't kill anyone. And Lavender. She- she was pregnant and when I went to give her the book her magic flared up. She said she wanted to be someone like me. Because of you, Ron. You always wanted me. So she wanted to be me. Even if it is for a moment just so that you would make her your priority for once. I clearly remember she said she wished that despite being a Pureblood she wished to become a mudblood like me if that garnered your attention. Your love," Hermione said softly with a voice filled with fake sympathy.

"She said that?" Ron asked.

"She did. So you see I am not the cause of her death. You are. Because she wanted your love. By becoming me. A mudblood. She wanted her blood to be mud. She became so, pregnancy magic wanted to give the expecting mother exactly what the mother wanted. Don't you realise? You didn't even want to marry her before you learnt she was giving you an heir. It was her magic's influence. And her death was also her magic's influence. Ask any Healer. They'll answer you the same," Hermione finished with a smirk.

"So I—" Ron began.

"Yes, you killed her, dear Ron," Hermione whispered back.

"I think that's enough. Take her away, please," Kingsley said loudly startling the Aurors present there. Kingsley did notice how they responded a little late to him now. As if they were second guessing his words. "What happened? Take her away!" Kingsley repeated again jolting the Aurors into action.

Ron sat there by a couple of Aurors crying his heart out for the girls in his life who have butchered his heart into ribbons. Draco had his arms around his wife, their faces bidding farewell to Hermione as she was made to wear the magic restraining cuffs around her wrist. Harry saw the people he knew since he was eleven fall apart in ways he never imagined. Ron was just a push away from the mental breakdown (thanks to the insidious work of the Horcrux) and Hermione was the shove that threw him off the edge. She almost turned him suicidal. Harry had no clue what went wrong, how it went wrong. He was rubbing the temples' of his head tightly as if to elevate a headache that seemed to have made a home in his head. He didn't notice when Hermione glided towards him making all the Aurors raise their wands to defend the Boy-Who-Lived. But Hermione merely walked up and close to Harry and placed her cheek alongside his stubble ones, startling him. She raised her mouth to his ears and closely whispered,

"I hope you suffer."

Harry shot back to stare incredulously at Hermione as her soft laughter filled the office that seemed strangely in harmony with Ron's sobbing.

Hermione Granger is, was and will be a bloody know-it-all. Acting on her whim, like she was doing these days, she bribed the nurse to overhear the very private conversation between the Minister and the Healer and more bribe brought her the exclusive file on the Institute where they were sending her. It seemed like the Minister of Magic, Head Auror and the Head Healer at St. Mungo's wanted to make a monster out of a petty freak. Not her fault at all, let this be on their heads. Like Tom Riddle and Grindelwald were Dumbledore's. That bribe also brought her a bonus: the news of Lavender's pregnancy.

One stone, two birds.

As she had put up no struggle when the Aurors apparated her to some desolate building where a Portkey took her to the rendezvous point. They had already broken her fake wand, which she had given to the Aurors on arriving at the Minister's office, and with a stunning hex at her way as soon as she reached there, they packed her up prim and proper and using another Portkey, they transferred her to Arkham. There are hardly any Wizarding folks there as they deemed that city way too dangerous to live in (yes, she had researched about the city. What use would getting the file by bribing be if she didn't research about the place she was going to get deported to?).

The Aurors arrived at the entrance of the asylum. From there, the Muggle security guards escorted her after handcuffing her the muggle way as the magic cuffs faded away and shoving her inside. A group of heavily armed guards formed a loose square around her and another man who was escorted alongside her. With a light shove on the back, they told her to move it. Hermione rolled her eye at their antics.

'As if that would intimidate me. If I wanted, I could have blasted their heads off their shoulder. But, it would be better for me if I was lying a little low now.'

"What's got you petite thing here?" the other 'escortee' asked me.

"Medical help," Hermione replied coolly.

"You sure you're at the right place?" he asked with fake concern.

"Who knows? They never proved it was me," Hermione answered innocently.

"Shut up both of you or I shall put a muzzle on both of you," a guard snapped.

"Ohhhh… kinky," Hermione smartass-ed which earned her a rough shove with the muzzle of a gun.

The security was pretty tight at Arkham which was something that she had expected. The guards who escorted her handled her person very roughly (again), but that was also expected. It was an asylum for the criminally insane after all. The handcuff was cutting into her wrist and the guard uniforms were ghastly blue and the prisoners another ghastly orange which reminded her of the Weasleys.

'Really, these Americans really lacked taste.'

The female staff had her checked pretty thoroughly- yes, had her stripped down too. All in the name of security. Though, Hermione suspected strongly she was lesbian because she seemed to enjoy her stripping a little too much. So Hermione decided to make it worth her while too. Hermione gave her a strip tease that had the guard lady's breathing heavily. The checking involved a lot of touching and…caressing. When she dressed up again, she couldn't resist giving the guard a saucy wink. Her smirk said it all. Hermione laughed as she was escorted away from the examination room. She was having fun already.

The asylum was a circular labyrinth with many levels and she assumed she was being sent to the furthest wing in the highest level which held the most ferocious criminals. On the way, she saw that there were many behind plain bars but there were some who were behind reinforced glass and looked decidedly saner than their plain bar counterparts.

They were in a corridor with a fenced wall on one side that opened into the courtyard. And what a scene that was. Utter chaos in its truest form. And the alarms weren't even activated by then. But just then the alarm bared and the emergency red light was switched on flooding the place in a hue of red. It did nothing to mute the spanning blood bath. The guards accompanying Hermione pulled out a metallic gun and placed it on her neck shooting her with a sedative. But the normal sedative dose didn't knock her out cold it only made her a little woozy. The world was blurring around her and she was positive she was seeing double of everything. Damn… those guards were fast. Hermione noted in her mind to avoid this the next time.

Somebody ran past her, shoving her towards the fence when a splatter of blood landed on her face. Scrunching her face in disgust, Hermione tried to wipe her face as much as possible with her cuffed hands. She tried to hold her ground as she felt a crowd of people push past her. Trying to shield herself, clumsily, she staggered inside the bloody courtyard- which was literally and physically bloody. All Hermione could see was blurry figures running hither and thither in a background of red. She held the fence door beside her and clung to it. It felt like Hermione had the worst hangover possible. She wasn't this hangover even after Astoria's atrocious hen party. She felt her magic snapping out of her forming a protective cocoon around her to protect from the debris-flesh, blood, random teeth or some grey matter- flying around.

The tranquillizers effect would fade in a minute or two until then she would just have to lie low. She crab-walked along the fence wall until she reached the corner, then she stood with her back to the wall, and grabbed the fence to keep her balance. The corner was not a popular place to be, most prisoners who hesitated to participate in the massacre were picked to be played with and those who participated got picked according to the pecking order. Hermione slowly shook her head to stop the world from blurring anymore when a springy girl (woman?) hopped next to her with the grace of an acrobat.

"Hi there, newbie!" the acrobatic woman greeted Hermione.

Hermione just gave her a shaky nod of her head.

"Not social, are you?" She asked with a frown.

" 's not tha'. I'm tranq-ed," Hermione slurred.

"Oh, I see," then she went quiet and turned to see the on-going carnage.

Some prisoners got hold of iron rods and were bashing the heads of the guards. Some were fighting with their bare hands and some stole the equipment of the guards and were using it against the guards. A guard was running with his body up in flames. There was this peculiar prisoner who mauling the guards with his bare hands and… jaws. The other was flipping a coin very expertly and was taking action in accordance with the result of the coin's face. He even seemed to have a very grotesque face on just one side. And there was a man in a space-suit like ensemble who was freezing people up. 'Where did he get that suit from in such short time? And did I just see Venomous Tentacula wrapping the guards up?'

Both of them kept staring at the unfolding scene- one with amusement and the other with surprise.

'The ministry sent me here to get 'better'. Guess the joke will be on them.'

"Uh-huh. So rude of me," she began again turning to face Hermione, "I am Harley. That had handsome son o' a gun you see there is my puddin'. And you are?"

"Hermione," Hermione replied as she finally came out of the tranquillizer's effect.

"That's a mouthful…but beautiful," Harley said with a silly grin.

"Thank you."

"Oh, oh! You are British. Love that accent. Makes you sound sooo posh!" Harley said as she grabbed Hermione's hand and turned towards the centre and shouted, "Puddin! Puddin! Meet my new friend! She's British and posh!"

A man in green hair and pale white skin turned to face them. It was anyone's guess that he was the "puddin'" Harley was taking about. His face was splattered with a maniacal grin that accompanied the glint in his eyes.

"Is it, Sugar?" He shouted back.

"Yes, yes. She's so polite, too," Harley answered him as she rocked back and forth on her heel with her arm wrapped around Hermione's arm.

He quickly approached them but was jolted back as if tasered when he was within five feet of them.

"Sorry, my fault. Could help but create a safe house in this corner," Hermione explained as the guy shook off the light shock and approached them again.

"So you did that?" He asked.

"I did," Hermione replied.

"Ain't she so fun? I am telling you we are going to be the bestest friends ever. Ain't we, honey?" Harley asked the guy for a confirmation.

"Sure, Luv."

"My baaaad," Harley said dragging the word, "This is my Puddin'. Puddin', this is…" Harley paused as she tried to recall Hermione's name.

"Hermione," Hermione provided.

"Yeah, Hermione," Harley added.

"Pleasure to meet you, my lady," the guy said with a devilish smirk as he took Hermione's free hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"Can't say the same for you," Hermione replied as Harley frowned.

"Why not, Hermione?" Harley asked in a childish whine.

"I can't exactly call your man with the name that you use, can I?" Hermione explained as Harley tried to understand what was wrong.

"Hah! I like her already. Ma'am, I am the greatest agent of chaos, Joker. At your service," Joker replied with a mock bow which Hermione replied to with a short curtsey.

"I like her too. She's nice," Harley said with finality.

"Now if you ladies excuse me, I have got work to do," Joker said as he plunged a piece of broken glass into the barely exposed neck of the guard, who was unfortunate enough to come within their corner spot, splattering them with his blood.

"Puddin! That wasn't nice. I am wet now," Harley squealed as she shook her hands and legs to get rid of the blood.

"I like you in red," Joker replied and then his tone dropped an octave, "And I like you wet. Now see, you are wet in red," and he laughed in the patented way madman laugh.

Harley joined him with her girlish giggles and Hermione merely shook her head as she tried to wipe the blood on her. Though a smile crept into her face. Not even a day has passed here and she already made a friend.

'Looks like I will have more luck here than in Hogwarts. Fingers crossed.'

Harley dragged Hermione on to meet new people. Some were a tad busy breaking necks, hands and legs of the poor guards, some were busy making a run for it but there were some who were not partaking in the violence rather they were enjoying the view. There was only this one guy who blew something onto the face of anyone who approached him or had the misfortune of landing near him. And whatever he blew onto them, it was certainly not a flying kiss. The people went slack for some moment and screamed as if under Cruciatus, maybe even more horrifically.

That drew Hermione's attention and as she tried to go to him like a moth to a flame, Harley tightened her hold on Hermione and shook her head like a strict mother trying to discipline her errant child.

"No, no, Mio. You are not going to meet him, just now." She said.

"Why not? He looks fascinating," Hermione replied struggling against her iron grip.

"Well, he's the Scarecrow. And right now, he's scaring his crows. So unless you want to be a scared crow, you wouldn't want to meet him," she explained.

"That thing he's blowing on people's face—" Hermione began.

"Induces fear like nothing else. Once, Ivy got a whiff of his terror fume, poor girl had to be taken into an isolated cell to get treated. Then I counselled her and now she's as right as rain," Harley said as she picked up a steel rod that rolled to a stop at her feet.

"You counselled her? Are you a counsellor?" Hermione asked wanting to know more about this girl-oops-woman.

"No, silly. I am psychiatrist here. Was… before he," she pointed her finger at Joker, who was bashing someone's head with the buckles in his straitjacket, "drove me crazy in his love." Her voice turned soft in the end.

"That landed you here?" I asked unable to kerb my curiosity.

" Joker and I were having fun in the town, and Bam! The Bat drops in uninvited and plays the bad guy and separates us. Then, Joker joined me in. He can't live without me, you see," Harley answered as she hopped a little forward to slam the rod into the back of the head of a guard.

"The bat? How can a bat land you here?" Hermione asked as she cast a weak shield that would keep the debris away from her.

'I didn't want to get so dirty without even playing.'

"Oh Em Jee! You don't know about the bat?" she sharply turned towards me and asked shocked.

Hermione shook her head.

"You have got sooooo much to learn, girl," she replied as she shook her head in defeat, "But what gotcha here?"

"They said I needed help. So, here I am," Hermione replied vaguely.

"I have to listen to that story," she began as a piercing whistle was heard in the background, "but now, we gotta play possum."

"What is that inhuman sound?" Hermione said as that sound nearly deafened me.

"The Punisher," Harley spat.

Hermione merely raised her brow at that.

'Americans…'

The noise was driving Hermione crazy. She could see the inmates fall one by one like flies; falling on their knees and curling into themselves. Only some hardened ones were the ones who could still resist the urge. The hardened-s and Harley and Hermione.

Hermione could only keep casting the privacy spell, but there was ultrasonic as well as subsonic noise which kept dismantling her spell in ten seconds or so.

Harley noticed the fluctuating noise decibels first and looked at her questioningly but didn't ask anything. She grinned at Hermione and nodded. Seeing an armoured special unit enter the area, Hermione dropped her spell and the full blown noise hit her. Her face screwed up on hearing that. Harley theatrically raised her hands above her head and dropped it abruptly only to cover her ears. Hermione decided to face the full blown effect of the noise. Besides, there was a pattern to that noise, so it wasn't a noise to her anymore. It became an irritating commercial jingle to her, so Hermione began humming it slowly. Then her eyes darted towards the last people standing. There was this reptilian looking guy whose body was dripping in blood and it was easy to guess that it wasn't his. Then there was Joker and few human looking guys. Some women were standing there too, but they all had covered their ears with their hands.

Hermione turned to face the special unit guards who were pouring in and were securing the threat when she felt that she was being stared at. She turned and found the scare-guy staring pointedly at her. Hermione mouthed 'what?' at him, but he just shook his head and then the unit people roughly tranquillized him. Someone grabbed Harley and Hermione but they didn't tranq-ed them as they were not in the deep of it. But that guy, despite being sedated, his eyes remained oddly focused. Focused on Hermione.

"Woohoo! You got an admirer already," Harley shouted as she was being carried away in a fireman's haul since she kept slipping away like a fish.

"Shush you," Hermione said not realising her cheeks getting red.

"Oh, look at that. Would you look at that! A blushing English Rose. Rose with her thorns intact," she gave a final shout as they turned the corner and the guard escorting Hermione turned towards the other corner.

'Thorny rose indeed. Let's see if I can bloom here better or not.'

T.B.C...